Why Do We Throw Coins into Fountains, Anyways?

Whether it’s a humble backyard well or a historic fountain, lean over the edge and you’ll be greeted by a sight that would send a magpie into heat: heaps of glittering coins, like a goblin had decided this particular water feature was going to be where he kept his retirement fund. Each one, presumably, attached to a wish, whether it was something as grandiose as world peace or as personal as “end this hangover, for the love of god.” 

It’s a funny tradition that even someone who wasn’t superstitious would be colossal a Scrooge to criticize, and it’s attached to social agreements like “no diving into the fountain to subsidize a vending-machine purchase.”

But what, exactly, is it about a single surrendered coin that imbues it with wishing power? 

It turns out that the coins themselves don’t hold a particularly magical meaning at all. They’re nothing more than a commonly accessible modern offering, given that sacrificing animals in polite company is frowned upon these days. Where the real magic lies is in the wells or fountains themselves, and it comes from their contents. Access to water is taken for granted in a lot of modern civilization. In any first-world country, dying of thirst would require an iron will and/or a rabies diagnosis. In ancient times, though, water, especially the kind that wouldn’t kill you if you drank it, was considered a direct gift from the gods. And so, any location with potable water was a borderline place of worship. 

At its most extreme, some cultures considered wells and fountains to house the gods themselves. Even if your culture took a more metered approach, they were still considered a place the gods were at least keeping an eye on. This made them a popular place to visit if you wanted to bend a particular deity’s ear, and as was so often the case, they expected a little in return for their time. 

Thus, offerings would be made there along with ancient requests — a very small version of which carried on through the ages to this day. Whether that holy hotline still picks up depends on your belief system, but if it does, I wouldn’t want to be the deity in charge of responding to the Trevi Fountain.